


Familiar Faces

by micehell



Category: Jericho (US 2006)
Genre: Drama, First Time, M/M, last ep related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-30
Updated: 2008-03-30
Packaged: 2017-11-12 03:20:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/micehell/pseuds/micehell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wondered what the world would be like when he woke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Familiar Faces

He'd spent long years of his life struggling to keep the world safe, and it had nearly cost him his family. He'd spent long, _hard_ months fighting to keep his family safe, and it had nearly cost him the world. Then he'd spent days where no matter how much he struggled, how much he fought, he came far too close to losing both, and hours where he could only breathe through the pain and trust in someone else to save all that he held dear. With all that, Robert could almost have thought that he'd be spontaneously healed now that the worst of it was over, but there he was, pain still a brand in his side, exhaustion weighing on him to the point that the voices swirling around him were muted and garbled, like adults in a Charlie Brown world, and once again all he could do was trust that Jake had his back.

And like every other self-appointed responsibility Robert had watched him take on, Jake took this one seriously, even following Robert into the ER trauma room. He deflected the medical personnel intent on having him leave with an amazing display of silence and wide-eyed, determined stares, either flying under their notice or using that tragic hero aura to get what he wanted. Robert didn't even have to look to know there'd be any number of the women, and not a few of the men, who'd be looking at Jake with that strange mix of irritation and wistful longing that he tended to bring out in people. But he was glad that Jake was there, the rough warmth of his callused hand an anchor to focus on as the pain and the drugs melted the rest of the world into a kaleidoscope of color and sound.

It was only as they were wheeling him away to surgery, the weight of Jake's stare almost tangible even as the distance between them increased, that Robert remembered that he wasn't the only one who had reason to be exhausted. And just like he'd done most of his life, he struggled and he fought, and he ground the words out past the anesthesia, past the blanketing shadows that blurred the faces he was talking to, and he could only hope he'd said enough as he went under, wondering what the world would be like when he came up again.

Like so many other things, waking to a new world was anti-climatic. For all that it had twisted and skewed since the bombs, the world remained largely the same. People were creatures of habit, sticking to what they knew, even in the face of disaster. So hospital rooms were still crowded and ugly, meant for function rather than ease, with that canned air smell that couldn't quite hide the lingering trace of sickness and humanity. And nurses still gave you that well-practiced smile, and called you dear and sweetie while they wiped up your own traces of sickness and humanity.

But for all that Robert knew better, for all that he knew things could never truly be the same, the familiarity of it all was comforting. As was the figure in the bed next to his, burrowed under blankets until everything was hidden but that needed-a-cut hair and one hand, wrist still ringed in bruises left by the restraints he'd worn for days. Robert didn't know if he'd really managed to make someone understand that Jake had needed attention, or if Jake had simply collapsed and they'd figured it out on their own. Equal odds either way, because Jake was stubborn -- and unlikely to have admitted he needed help, not outside of Jericho -- but everyone had limits. It eased his own sense of responsibility that someone had found Jake a bed, one way or another.

The nurse left, and not even the ever-present worry about what was going to happen next could keep Robert from drowsing, the new world fading away in the exhaustion left by the last. But he woke instantly when Jake jerked awake, that one visible hand flailing out to knock an empty cup off the bedside table, the motion causing the blankets to slide down, exposing Jake's panicked face, eyes desperately trying to place where he was. Before Robert could say anything, Jake's eyes caught his, recognition replacing the fear, and he slumped back down on the bed, his entire body going slack as he relaxed.

It wasn't often that Robert was unsure of himself. Thinking on his feet was one of his strongest talents, what made him so good at his job. But he was at a loss here, not sure if he should say something or not. He didn't have bad dreams, not anymore, but he remembered what it was like to wake up and find out the dream wasn't real, but to know the memory that had fueled it was.

Jake wasn't helping any, loud in his silence, but Robert's decision was made when he saw the trembling, Jake shaking like he had for days after almost dying in the cold. Ignoring both his body's and Jake's protest, he managed to get out of bed, pushing Jake back down on his as he sat beside him. Jake paused a second, wearing that hesitant look he always had when he was deciding which way to react, but then he relaxed again, eeling to the side to make room for Robert to lean back against the pillows, get his own cooling legs under the covers. Small as the bed was, there was still room for them both, hard times having pared them down, not to mention the fact that while he might be taller than Robert, it was only hard-worked muscles that kept Jake from being scrawny.

The trembling slowed, but didn't stop. Jake was pale and hollow-eyed with exhaustion, his ghosts still dancing in the corners of his eyes, and best of intentions in the world, Robert lending Jake a comforting hand wasn't going to cure the situation anymore than Jake's hand had cured Robert before. But slower was an improvement, and in a couple of weeks, if fate would just give them a break, the dreams would probably fade again.

Jake had curled in around himself, lying on his side, as if it was really the cold that was making him shake. But he was stilling under Robert's hand, the random patterns Robert traced across his back, sleep luring them both. Until the nurse came back in, anyway. It brought them instantly to alert, too keyed towards fight-or-flight to rest easy in this place, and though Robert put on his best smile, trying to think of a quick explanation of what he was doing that didn't make them both sound pathetic, he was still eyeing her cautiously, half-expecting her to whip a gun out of her uniform tunic.

The nurse, however, was apparently immune to surprise, taking them in with nothing more than a raised eyebrow while she did a quick check to make sure they had everything they needed. It only raised Robert's suspicions, that lack of comment on his being out of bed or questions about what he was doing, but when she was leaving, she turned back, giving him a broad wink and using her watch and some gestures to pantomime one hour, letting him know when the next time rounds would be, and he relaxed. Apparently instead of being some kind of assassin or spy, she was just a closet romantic.

When the door shut behind her, Jake breathed out a light laugh without opening his eyes. "She thinks we're about to have sex."

Robert nodded, to himself mostly, since Jake couldn't see him. "We'll be lucky if she didn't leave a camera behind to film it."

It was just a joke, just a way to deflect any seriousness to the moment, but it brought Jake's eyes open, searching Robert's face for… something. "Will we? Be lucky?"

The suggestion surprised Robert, even though he thought nothing could anymore. It wasn't like it hadn't almost happened before, once, when Jake had let his guard down, when just for a moment the tension between them had been something besides caution and burgeoning trust. But they'd been interrupted then, the moment lost to responsibility, and they'd never won it back again. It didn't mean Robert didn't think about it sometimes. But even though Robert had thought Emily had gone to Jake a little too quickly after Roger had been exiled, it didn't mean that Robert couldn't see how much Jake cared about her. And he knew Jake, better than he knew most people, even if they had only known each other for a while. He wasn't the type to be unfaithful just for a quick hand job, which is all either of them could even hope to be up for now. Where was this coming from, then? "Emily?"

Jake had his head down so that Robert couldn't see all his face, but he tipped it up enough to stare at him through his bangs and his lashes, cover where he didn't need it. But Jake was always a little skittish, gun shy after years of fucking up without ever meaning to. And almost as if he knew the less than charitable thought Robert had had about her, Jake said, "Emily wouldn't have come to me just because she needed someone. Not just because she was lonely."

And Robert could give her that. She might be confused emotionally about Jake, but she was nearly as stubborn as he was. "Why did she come to you then?"

If Robert had expected Jake to say because she loved him, he would have been surprised again. But he'd been pretty sure that wasn't it. Not all of it, at any rate. "She came to me because _I_ needed _her_. Because I was afraid and lonely, and she was familiar and someone I trusted. And she just kept being there for me, because I'd lost my father. And my mother was falling apart, and I couldn't help her. Or Eric, or Bonnie, or Stanley, or, hell, Mimi. And it just kept going on and on, and she just kept going on and on, but it was only… it wasn't…"

"It wasn't physical?" Robert wondered at Jake's nod. Regardless of what he'd thought about the Roger thing, he'd seen the way Emily looked at Jake. She wasn't just interested in his mind. "How come?"

Jake shrugged, and Robert thought for a moment that that was all he was going to get, but then Jake sighed, air pushing out of him like a secret trying to escape. "There are always going to be three men between us, and no matter how much we like each other, that's never going to go away."

Roger he knew, and Jonah was a good bet, but Robert could only guess on the last one. He'd heard Jimmy mention a brother, gossiping, but uncomfortable about it, trying to explain the ins and outs of Jericho, but too loyal to Jake to want to say bad about him, even if it were deserved.

"Oh," was all he answered, possibilities opening up where he'd left them alone before.

Either hearing the chance in Robert's voice, or just stubbornly following through on what he'd started, Jake asked, "Darcy?"

Robert thought about it for a moment. How to explain the tangled mess that was his marriage? He finally settled for saying, "If Darcy would take me back, for real, I'd go in a second. I owe her. I love her. I always will, no matter which one of those things you're talking about. But I'm not _in_ love with her anymore. Too much has passed for that."

It wasn't much of a confession. Robert was pretty sure that Jake had figured all that already, had seen the same type of thing in his own brother's marriage. But it was better to be upfront with people, especially when you were lying in bed with them, the nurse not due back for another 55 minutes, and the new world still forming around them.

Jake nodded, a small smile on his lips. "Yeah. I owe Emily, too. Love her, but…"

But. It was the but that was making Robert's breath quicken, the feel of Jake's long, hard body beside him making him think thoughts his battered body and the drugs in his system, not to mention the lack of privacy in a hospital, shouldn't be letting him think. But he'd always believed in grabbing opportunity where you could find it. Life was too short not to.

He still had a hand on Jake's back, but it trailed lower now, tacit acceptance of what was on offer here. It couldn't ever be happily ever after for them, not with the obligations they had: to his children, to the women they loved, to the people they were trying to protect. But that didn't mean they couldn't have good moments, comfort in being with someone who understood sacrifice and duty, and who wouldn't ask more of them than they could give.

Robert leaned down, wanting to kiss, but he hissed when his stitches started to pull. Jake shook his head at him, pushing him back on the bed this time, squirming his way up until they were face to face. He started to say something, but stopped, hesitating, but welcoming enough when Robert bridged that last gap between them, taking the kiss they'd almost had all those months ago. It was tentative, a foray into unknown territory rather than coming home, but it was good all the same, Jake's lips slightly chapped, days of dehydration taking its toll, but warm and open, and taking Robert in.

It was a slow kiss, not from ease but from exhaustion, and regardless of the hour the nurse had given them, they weren't up for much. He felt Jake's hand on his stomach, careful of the wound, moving lower until he could feel Robert's cock, half-hard. The hand was still slightly shaky, the body pressed close to Robert's shuddering from time to time, but Robert thought at least some of it might be his own hand's exploration, slipping beneath conveniently-loose hospital pajamas to feel Jake's own interest in the proceedings.

It would have been nice to take it slow, to lay Jake out and map his body with lips and hands. To learn what would make him laugh and what would make him cry out. But they were tired, and the nurse was coming back soon enough, and the bed wasn't exactly roomy even if it would hold them both. So all Robert had time to learn was the feel of Jake's cock in his hand, his hand on Robert's cock. The pleasure of calluses on sensitive skin, long, thin legs twining with his own, and Jake's lips on his neck, Robert's name a puff of hot air against his skin as Jake came, shuddering again.

Robert hadn't been sure that he could come, thinking that aroused might be the best that he could manage, but Jake's hand tightening around his cock even as his face went slack with pleasure sent a jolt through him that felt like lightning. When he managed to swim back up from the haze of orgasm, his body still thrumming so much that not even the strain he'd placed on the stitches was enough to register as pain, Jake was already asleep again, his face startling young in sleep. It was so easy to forget how young he was sometimes, the weight of his past and present bearing him down. Hell, Robert sometimes forgot that he wasn't exactly old himself. He brushed the bangs back from Jake's face, considering how much time they might have.

And how little. The Allied States might not have his bomb -- his, and how fucked up was it that he thought of it like that -- but there were still silos all over their territory. Still military bases, with ordnance that could destroy far too much, and it wasn't like they hadn't already shown themselves willing to use them. With the EMP that had taken out so many avenues of communication, it would be hard to let the people know what was really going on. They'd do it in the end, let the world know what had happened, and the Allied States would fall, but it wouldn't be overnight. And it wouldn't be easy. And there was no way that Jake was going to stay in Texas and be relatively safe. No way that Robert would.

But it was a new world, and no matter how much people were creatures of habit, Robert was determined to break some of his. So instead of focusing on everything that could go wrong, and probably would, he shoved Jake over a little more, settling further down on the bed beside him, and managed to sleep through the nurse's next visit.

/story


End file.
